Inevitability
by Micayasha
Summary: Maybe it was always going to happen - meant to be. .:POST-GAME:. Quistis/Squall


_I know, I said I wasn't gonna post anymore... But I'd love to know what people think, because this is my first time writing this pairing! Please review, even if it's only a few words. ) I have posted another fic at my LJ, wildejoy., so remember to check there every now and then! The fic over there is Wakka/Lulu and it's called _Family_. Let me know what you think! If you don't have an LJ account you can also always use an OpenID._

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Right from the first moment she saw him, Quistis knew she wanted Squall Leonhart. It would have been unthinkable at the time – he had been a student, after all, and it would have gotten her license revoked. But she knew right then, when she first called his name off the attendance sheet and he looked up at her with those somber, stormy eyes, that she would have him. He was quiet and sulky, but an excellent student, and there was a deadly grace with which he moved that proved he was a natural fighter. Quistis couldn't help but watch his muscles tensing through the thin white t-shirt he wore to train, and long to brush his hair out of his eyes. He was beauty in motion, and oh, how she wanted him.

When she had been fired, she'd thought – maybe… but he'd seemed about as interested in her as he would be in a brick wall. And then had come the war, and finding out about the orphanage, and it had been so much to take in, and Rinoa…

Still, now there was nothing to stand in her way. Rinoa had left nearly a year ago, and Quistis had been baffled by Squall's utter lack of reaction. At first he had scowled and glared more often and more fiercely, but that had lasted all of two months. Quistis had wondered for a while whether he was only bottling up his hurt, but he'd genuinely seemed over it, and it occurred to her that maybe his fairy-tale romance hadn't been quite what anyone expected.

Quistis made sure her breathing was even and her cheeks were not flushed and yet she couldn't help tugging nervously at the hem of her skirt and smoothing down imaginary wrinkles in her jacket. She fought the urge to glance in the nearby window to check her hair once again. She was acting like a schoolgirl and she knew it. There was something about Squall that turned her soft inside in a way she'd never allowed herself to be.

He was sitting in the corner, picking at his vegetables with a pensive frown on his face and a thin stack of papers in his other hand – a mission report, no doubt. For a man who'd complained at the lack of decorum with which he'd been thrust into the position of Commander, he had thrown himself into the job with an enthusiasm that even Quistis had not anticipated – though she shouldn't have been surprised. He was obviously determined not to let them down, and of course there was also the fact that Squall liked to be good at everything he tried, even if this didn't always end up being the case.

_You're being ridiculous. Just go over there and talk to him. You've done it a thousand times before._ Quistis tried to ignore the pounding of her heart, focusing instead on the fresh, clipped tapping of her heels on the tile floor. The sound cleared her mind, gave her a strange confidence, like the kind that got her through even the toughest of business meetings. She could do this.

"May I join you?"

Squall jumped a little, looking up and blinking his silvery eyes to focus on her. "Oh," he said, as if he was coming out of a daze. "Yes."

"Thank you." Quistis sat gingerly, hoping there was no sticky stains or chewed gum. "What is that?" She nodded at the papers in Squall's hand.

He blinked again. "Report," he replied, and said nothing more. It was never easy to talk to Squall, but she'd known this. She should have been more prepared for such a silence.

"I—" Quistis hesitated. "I was just wondering. If you'd be interested in going to dinner with me. Tonight."

She could have sworn there was the faintest pink tinge to Squall's ivory cheeks. "Oh," he said again, opening his mouth and closing it. The corners of his mouth tugged a little before he controlled himself and nodded in a businesslike fashion. "Yeah. That'd be... nice."

His tone was nonchalant and his face was blank, but Quistis knew him better than that. There was warmth in his eyes, and he was so caught off guard that his blush was showing more and more. She smiled, and watched the way his lips tensed before an answering smile appeared, shy, small and reserved but _there_, and seeming genuine.

Maybe it was fate, she thought later, licking the taste of wine and mint from his mouth. Maybe this was always meant to be, always going to happen – it was only a matter of when. Because there was something _right_ in the way his hips fitted to hers, and the careful sweetness of his hands on her body. Inevitable, then, that he should slip inside her, hot and hard and perfect, his skin soft on hers and his tongue tracing a path over her neck. Quistis could hardly believe it was happening, except that it felt too good to be a dream.

That night, she bit her tongue on the words that threatened to escape, because she knew it was too soon. However long she'd been harboring these feelings, they were new to Squall, and she knew it would be a while before she could make him understand just how much she wanted him.

But the way he looked at her as their hearts slowed and sweat cooled on their skin, made her think it might not be so far off. She hated to admit it, even to herself, but deep down she was something of a romantic, and she believed in fate. Inevitability. Meant to be.


End file.
